A Lighted Match
by Jan Itor Juice
Summary: Somewhere in a quiet country town lies darkness, its terror seeping out from every fracture in its make. Will The Batman be able to stop Scarecrow, or will Gotham City sink into the maddening darkness? A few supporting OCs. Rated T for language and violence


Corvus Point was a small town far from the noise and urban blight of Gotham City. The sour seaside air and bleak atmosphere of Gotham gave way at the city limits, fading into the warm and calming glow of the countryside. Fall had just set in, painting the trees in vibrant shades of gold, vermillion and chartreuse; their leaves aflame, dancing in the crisp breeze along the wide, open freeway that led to such a small, quiet town.

It would beg to mention, that in this small, quiet town, there would be rows and rows of small, quiet houses, each full of equally modest people. And sometimes, every so often, these quiet people in their quiet, little houses would look out to the big, raucous trees so discordant in their autumn transformation. These billowing flames singed the otherwise untouched skirts of Corvus Point, marking the start of this quiet, little town's long and recurrent pyre.

And amongst these trees blazing, so scolding to the eyes of quiet people, ran three small boys, trudging through the kindled wood, the fallen embers crunching under their feet. Their eyes alight with the flames, they made their way further into the inferno, chasing their shadows while the sun sank slowly in the somber sky. And of these boys, so fiery in their approach, one marched ahead, leading this trio of trepidation deeper into the woods.

"Hurry up you two, we're almost there!" a young, lean boy called behind, brushing a blonde lock of hair out of his eyes.  
His smile almost was almost as bright as his eyes, and his arms swung along as he strode ahead, the thin grey jacket swaying in the breeze.

"Tommy," a second boy (considerably less lean and slightly less younger than his guide) whined whilst climbing over a fallen tree, "Are you sure it's this far in?"

Thomas Barrie spun on his heel, planting a hand on each hip and sporting a wry grin.

"If it wasn't, we would've found it already." With that he spun back around, nonchalantly waving a hand over his shoulder, "C'mon Jakey, don't you trust me? I know where I'm going."

Jacob sighed, wiping a bead of sweat off his brow. He would've trusted Tommy, or as much as anyone should trust Tommy, had they not been walking for hours. He looked to the sun still shining through the trees, having to adjust his black corduroy hat so it wouldn't shine in his eyes.

At least it felt like hours.

"Hurry up Ry, like Tommy said, we're almost there."

The sound of crunching leaves and a squeaky sneeze was the only reply, for behind him stumbled little Rylee Bedford, nearly tripping over his own feet. His tiny legs worked double time to keep up with his older cohorts, scurrying through the twigs and mossy overgrowths. His brown, curly hair bobbed in his eyes, almost as dirty as the ground he walked on, and his sweatshirt (now used as a makeshift tissue) was much too big for him, considering it was his older brother's.

'Five and a half years older, to be exact', as Jacob would say.

Finally, both Jacob and Rylee caught up to Thomas standing in a small clearing, his back to them.  
"Well boys," he announced, "we're here."

Jacob looked around. More trees. This is hardly what he was expecting.

"Where, exactly, is /here/ Tommy?" he asked, trying to contain his disappointment. If this was just another one of Tommy's jokes, after all this time, Jacob wasn't sure what he'd do. Probably march back home with the little dignity he had left ever since he and Rylee came to stay with Tommy.

"Here is here." Thomas looked back, grinning and winking one bright, blue eye before disappearing into a thicket, again.  
Jacob stared. He didn't like where this was going, and he wondered if it was too late to go back home now.

Rylee, on the other hand, hurriedly followed Thomas into the bushes. Ever since he had met Tommy, Rylee followed his every move; certainly more than he ever would his own brother, Jacob thought.

"Oh well" Jacob sighed, following his brother's, and ultimately Tommy's footsteps into the grove.

* * *

Thomas and Rylee were standing on the other side of the brush, their eyes supposedly trained on a large, twisted maple; its barren limbs tore at the sky, and the trunk itself contorted, almost painfully.

It wasn't pretty, but it surely couldn't have been what they came all the way here for, could it?

Jacob took another few steps forward.

"Tommy, what are we-…ohh…" Jacob's expression fell to that of his companions: an odd mix of amazement and apprehension.

Beyond the gnarled maple sat an old, decrepit farmhouse. It gave a new meaning to the words. Its white wash paint (or what was left of it) was barely visible through the vines and creepers, and the wooden structure looked as though it could barely hold itself up, writhing under its own weight. Half of its front porch had collapsed, scattering planks throughout the unruly and unkempt lawn. Shadows stretched and clung to it like mold, and the shattered windows gaped down at them with an unearthly emptiness. Talk about not pretty.

Jacob shook himself out of it.

"Tommy, what is this place?" he asked, keeping one eye on the house like it was a feral animal.

"It's a haunted house." Thomas replied, putting on the same grin from earlier.

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is." Thomas changed his attention to Rylee, now chewing on his sleeve, "Full of ghosties and ghoulies ready to eat little kids up."

Rylee's expression was that of pure shock.

" …'S it really?" he squeaked, eyes wide and nose runny.

"No. It's not Ry." Jacob interjected before Thomas could respond, "He's just trying to scare you."

"Oh yeah?" Tommy's eyes slid over to the house, his grin growing wider, "Prove it then."

"What?"

"Prove it. Go on up and show Rylee there's nothing to be afraid of."

Jacob didn't care much for ghost stories, but the house did look dangerous, like the next gentle breeze could send it crashing down. There was probably plenty to be afraid of.

"No."

"Why not?" Rylee asked, his brow furrowing.

"Because."

"Are you 'fraid you'll get eated by the ghosts?"

"Probably." Tommy interjected, his expression changing to that of faux-disappointment, struggling to hold back his trademark grin, "Guess he's just too scared."

Rylee crossed his arms, puffing out his little chest "I'm not scared."

Tommy chuckled, "That makes two of us."

Jacob's face was red, "I'm **not **scared."

"You're not?" Thomas inquired.

"No." Jacob's fists were clenched almost as tight as his teeth.

"Well then…" Thomas turned, politely bowing and gesturing to the house, "After you."

Jacob's stomach instantly sank. After this, he would be lucky if he had any dignity to carry home. He heaved a heavy sigh, looking from Tommy to Rylee, then to the house. The sooner he got through with it…

"Alright." Jacob shuffled forward, staring at his shoelaces. He hated being the butt of Thomas' jokes, but he hated it even more when Tommy was right. Even if he was scared, all they'd have to do is go poke around and show that there were no ghosts. There couldn't be any ghosts, they don't exist. …But how were they gonna prove it? Jacob stumbled over a chunk of wood hidden in the tall grass, causing him to look up to the house looming over him, its shadows sinking into every crevice. Behind it, Jacob noticed, was a fairly large clearing, full of what looked to be cornstalks, still growing, if sparsely, in their field. This must've been a real farmhouse.

"….What do we do now? …Tommy?" Jacob turned, raising an eyebrow. Thomas and Rylee were stopped by the maple tree, grinning like idiots. Jacob's shoulder slumped. They weren't even going to come up with him. Thomas nodded up to the door. Of course.

"Alright…" Jacob mumbled to himself, gingerly stepping up onto the porch, hollow boards creaking under his weight. The windows, now illuminated by the setting sun, glowed an eerie light. A slight flutter caught his eye. Curtains. The wind was picking up, and it flowed through the cracks and holes of the house. It must be. Jacob looked back over his shoulder; Tommy once again caught his eye, now making a knocking motion with his fist.

"But-….But what if someone's in there?" Jacob's voice trailed off as soon as Thomas's eyebrows perked up. Of course there wasn't anyone inside. He sighed again, and looked to the rugged door standing before him, its weathered appearance made him think he could get splinters just by being near it. He balled his sweating hands up, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn't really this scared, was he?

Nonetheless, he pounded on the door. 5 times to be exact.

…Was this it? Is this all he had to do? He swallowed his heart, which had somehow found its way into his throat, and turned around, his legs feeling about the consistency of gelatin. Not wanting to turn his back to the house, Jacob looked to the two boys still standing by the twisted maple.

"…Well?" he asked, trying to hide the obvious trembling in his legs, "Are we done yet?"

Thomas took a quick look around before jogging up to the stoop, Rylee's little feet scurrying behind him.

"Almost." Tommy replied, stepping up "First we gotta go inside."

"What!?" Jacob took a step back into the door, then immediately jolted forward, "You didn't say anything about-"

"What's wrong Jakey, I thought you weren't scared?" Thomas cooed, placing his hand on his hips and leaning forward.

"Yeah! Weren't scared!" Rylee echoed, mimicking Tommy's stance.

"Even if I was," Jacob took another step back, "I-I don't care. You two can go on and 'get eaten by ghosts' for all I care."

"Suit yourself." Thomas shrugged. With that he stepped around Jacob, easily pushing the door open and stepping inside. Rylee soon followed, scuffling through the doorway and disappearing into the darkness.

* * *

Jacob wanted to leave them, he wanted to leave the house; its sagging structure looked even more foreboding in the waning light. Its cracked and shattered windows looked down on him, and the open door almost breathed a spine chilling air, even for a cool autumn evening like this. Yes, Jacob wanted to run as far away as he could, as fast as he could. But he couldn't. He couldn't run home sniveling, only to have Thomas and (to a lesser extent) Rylee come back laughing and joking to everyone how 'Jakey' was too scared to go in a stupid house. No, he simply couldn't give them another reason to jab or jeer. He wasn't scared of this house, and he certainly wasn't scared of them.

At least that's what he told himself as he took one last breath of the sweet, fresh air, swallowing his fears and stepping inside.

* * *

The house was even more warped on the inside. Its inner frame twisted into a grotesque and misshapen form; the hallway sunk to a faltering degree, and the floorboards were rotted substantially. It reminded Jacob of a funhouse, one of the same degree he'd run out screaming from at the last year's county fair. The planks groaned under his feet, and Jacob prayed he wouldn't fall through, fearing that beneath the house laid a dark and bottomless pit. Or a pit of any sort, for that matter. How would he get out if there was and he did fall through? Surely someone would come looking, and at any rate Thomas and Rylee wouldn't leave him behind, would they? But what if they-

Jacob didn't have the time to think, let alone scream, before he jolted at the sudden pressure poking the back of his ribs. He spun around, slamming his weight against the wall and abruptly sending a cloud of dust into the air. He could barely breathe through the dust, the dense cloud making it so he couldn't see Thomas giggling just across from him.

But he could hear him.

"Scared you!"

"No you didn't!" Jacob wheezed, "You just surprised me, there's a difference!"

"Yeah, whatever. Hey, come look at this." Thomas spun around once the dust had settled, walking through an adjacent doorway. Jacob took one last look at the entryway, making sure the door was open a crack, just in case.

The room looked just as warped as the hall, if not more. Dirty windows illuminated it with a dimming light, giving way through the shadows. To Jacob's surprise, there was still furniture, draped in dirty sheets, their ghostly figures shapeless and crude. All but one decrepit rocking chair sat uncovered.

"Boo!" a little ghost popped up, no doubt covered in the chair's missing sheet.

"Stop it Rylee," Jacob ordered, "and take that thing off, it's gross!" promptly ripping the sheet off, along with a few hairs.

"Oww. Tommy, he pulled my hair!" Rylee blubbered, holding his head as he ran over to Thomas now crouched down and looking through a through a peephole in a door just across the room.

"Well?" Jacob asked, still standing close to the exit, "We're inside, we did it, can we go **now**?"

"…Tommy?" he shifted uneasily, "Tommy, what are you doing?" Jacob gulped and puffed out his chest. He marched over, but lightly so as not to fall into the pit.

"Tommy, what are you-"

"Shh." Thomas ordered, "I thought I saw something move." He motioned to the light stretching under the crack in the door; the sun must be really low now.

"It was probably a squirrel or something. Let's just go."

"Hold on." Thomas got up, dusted off his slacks and first tried to pull the door open with no avail. Next, he threw his shoulder into it enough times to make Jacob cringe, but the slamming only brought more dust down. "It must be locked."

"Good. I'm sick of this place. Now can we leave? Before Ry gets sick again?" Jacob nodded to Rylee wiping his nose on his sleeve once more.

"Yeah…" Thomas sighed, listlessly looking to the door, and then abruptly putting his smile back on, "Hey Jakey, at least we found out one thing."

"What?" Jacob asked while turning to leave, partly not wanting to know the answer.

"You're ticklish."

They hadn't gotten more than two steps before the distinctive clicking of a lock sounded behind them.

* * *

All the boys had frozen. The light from under the door had grown considerably brighter as it nipped at their heels. Too bright for the now completely sunken sun, making the room even hazier than it was before. Jacob stared at the exit, mere feet away. He wondered how close he could get before whatever it was behind them got him. Rylee's sniffling broke the silence.

"Tommy, what's that?"

Jacob couldn't see Thomas, but the shakiness of his breath was enough to know his smile had vanished.

Jacob couldn't help it, he had to turn and see what it was that stood behind them, no doubt ready to pounce. It wasn't so much of "what" as it was "who," Jacob thought, but the light coming through the door as it creaked open was so bright against the hazy darkness he had to shield his eyes until they adjusted. It definitely was a person, their shadowy figure backlit against the blinding light. Jacob stared, trying to make out any of the features. It looked like a woman. It must be, her short hair swayed as she tilted her head, placing a hand on her rather thickset hip. In fact, her shape was very stocky, and she wasn't even that much taller than them, as he concluded with further slack jawed inspection.

Jacob didn't know how long he'd been staring before he saw a yellowed grin creep across the woman's face as she leaned a little further into the room, her eyes just barely shining in the light.

"Well now," the woman gleamed, sliding her eyes from one boy to the next, "Isn't it past your bedtimes?"

Jacob jumped at Rylee's sudden grip on his hand, then quickly looked to Tommy who, for all intents and purposes, could've passed as a very life-like statue.

"I, I mean, we-we were just-" Jacob fumbled over his words, fiddling with his shaking fingers.

The woman's grin fell.

"Don't you all know it's **rude** to go out sneakin' 'round people's houses at night?"

"I-I just-we didn't-I-…" Jacob stammered, looking to Tommy for reassurance and finding none. Rylee piped up before the other two could stop him.

"We's thought your house was haunted."

A long chill ran down Jacob's back, though he was unsure if it came from the cold nighttime air, or the woman's beaming smile that grew again after another lengthy silence.

"Did you really?" Her voice had softened, but her eyes were harsh and smile uninviting.

"Uhuh" Rylee sniffed "With ghosties and ghoulies that could eat us up!"

"..Ghosts huh?" The woman looked around, as if checking for any spirits hiding in the room. "I don't see any ghosts, do you?"

None of the boys responded. They couldn't. The dusty air had sucked their voices out of them.

"I'll let you in on a little secret about this house…" she whispered, this time looking cautiously over her shoulder, "This house is haunted."

"It is?" Ryle peeped, oblivious of his companions' agitated looks.

"Ohh yesss" the woman hissed while leaning even closer in, "By a witch."

Her sudden snap back up made was enough to make each of the boys jump.

"They say she lives all alone in the woods, waiting for bad little children to come poking around…"

She strode out of the glowing doorway, the boys backing away with every step.

"And when they do," her eyes widened almost as big as Jacob's, "she grabs them, and traps them, and grinds their bones for bread!"

Jacob's back hit the wall, just next to the open hallway, and he could even see the front door open just a crack. Just in case.

"And the worst part is…" the woman's voice just above a whisper as she leaned down to the boys' level, "She just found you."

It didn't take long for Jacob to scramble down the hallway, dragging his two companions behind him as he ran out the door, further and further from the witch's cackle. The laughter rang through the trees, slowly fading as the three boys, their dignity left far behind them at the farmhouse, bolted through the now extinguished forest.

And as a chuckle echoed in the house, its front door slowly closed shut, the heavy lock clicking shut.

Just in case.

* * *

**Author's note:  
**

**Uhh...Hi. I hope that wasn't completely boring, and if it was I'm sincerely sorry. **

**I must admit this is more-or-less my first fanfiction. But that doesn't mean I'm looking for sympathy; on the contrary, I would really appreciate any constructive criticism that would help me grow as a writer and...as a human.  
**

**Also, I'm aware of the error in the title, but thanks to anyone who caught it.  
**

**...Alrighty then, I'll see what you guys think.  
**


End file.
